


Around the Corner

by soso_solo



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 90's AU, Ben the Corporate Executive, Enemies in real life Soulmates on the Internet, F/M, Flirting over E-Mail, Rey is a Small Business Owner, Reylo Rom Com, Reylo-Endgame, Slow Burn, Small Business Versus Corporation, fluff with a side order of angst, penpals, the slowest of burns, you've got mail - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 21:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15276429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soso_solo/pseuds/soso_solo
Summary: Rey Kenobi takes great pride in the small bookstore left to her by her darling great-uncle; but, just around the corner, a Solo Books is about to open. The big-box store threatens her livelihood and everything her store represents. Rey won't go down without a fight, and she'll take great pleasure in going head-to-head with the obnoxious Ben Solo, son of Solo Books' CEO and heir apparent to the company. The rivals banter and bicker over the importance of small businesses, and Rey swears to loathe Ben Solo forever.Through e-mail, she adopts the persona of ShopGirl and develops a strong relationship with her penpal, NY158. She turns to him for support during her lengthy battle with Solo Books, and she grows ever-enamored of the funny, charming, and faceless man behind a computer who lets her vent about the awful person she's fighting with professionally.Little do they know, but NY158 and ShopGirl already know each other in real life....





	Around the Corner

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm so excited to write my first fic on here for Reylo. 
> 
> I don't think this AU has been done yet, based on a quick search, but if it has, eep! I'm sorry! I watched the movie recently and just really wanted to see the Reylo dynamic in it.
> 
> If you aren't familiar with the 1990's classic rom-com "You've Got Mail," you shouldn't be too worried about the other relationship tags - I wanted to follow the structure of the movie as much as possible, and that requires both Ben and Rey to have significant others at the beginning. Reylo is endgame, and future break-ups are fairly amicable - everyone gets a happy ending! 
> 
> I also chose to use Ben and not Kylo for this. Joe Fox in the original movie is not really that villainous (besides his adherence to capitalism and some bad life choices), more careless and entitled. Also, I'm a sucker for a never-fallen but still somewhat asshole-y Ben Solo!
> 
> Enjoy the 90's fluff and misunderstandings <3

It was a typical September morning; that is to say, Armie was running late, and it was too cold to get out of bed just yet.

Rey watched, amused, as her boyfriend thrashed around the apartment trying to tie his shoes while yammering on about the evils and dangers of technology.

“Listen cupcake, they just – technology takes over everything! You think it’s your friend, but it’s not.”

“Mmm.” Rey sipped the tea he’d been so kind to make her, so she could stay in bed a little longer. He had to be at the paper by 7:00 though, and didn’t have the benefit of strolling into a shop he owned an hour before opening.

“I can hear the ‘mmm’s true meaning, which is you don’t believe me.” Armie pointed a playful finger at her, and then popped toast in his mouth while he pulled on his tweed jacket. He continued to talk with his mouth full “Honethly, Rey, name one goo thing that technology hath done for uth.” He took a victorious chomp of his breakfast and looked at her expectantly.

Rey squinted up her face in mock thoughtfulness. “Um. Electricity?”

Armie grabbed his bag and rolled his eyes. “Alright, so you got electricity. Other than that,” he gestured wildly at her computer which was already booting on for the day, “These machines’ll be our downfall. Evil things.” He gave it a withering look before jogging over to the bed and kissing her on the temple quickly. “Have a good day, cupcake.”

“You too,” Rey smiled at him and watched him disappear out the front door. The second the deadbolt turned, she set her tea down and threw back the covers. She scurried across the hardwood floor of her East Village apartment and checked the peephole to see if he truly was leaving – Armitage was bouncing down the steps, none the wiser to her eminent technology use.

Rey jumped into the old wooden chair at her desk and logged on, clicking through the Windows start-up sequence. She opened the familiar, cheerful triangle icon, and held her breath for a moment.

“You’ve got mail!” a detached but oddly friendly voice proclaimed. Rey heaved a sigh of relief and opened the e-mail waiting in her box.

[ **From** : NY158]

[ **To** : ShopGirl]

[ **Subject** : Chewbacca]

[ **Time Stamp** : 6:35 AM, Sept. 15,1998]

_ShopGirl – you asked about the most important person in my life. Chewbacca is a hundred and ten pound ball of fur, and I wish I could tell you his breed or his background, but that would suggest I hadn’t fished him out of a trash can near Chinatown six years ago. Had I known at the time that he would one day be this large, I assuredly would have never named him for the dog of my childhood, my father’s beloved pet Shi Tzu. I must admit though, that this Chewbacca would have been well and truly cowed by its predecessor. He was a fearsome beast, with many confirmed kills._

_My Chewbacca, or Chewie, secretly moonlights as a catcher for the New York Mets. At least, I keep discovering balls in my home that I have no recollection of buying._

_I love New York in the fall. I’m always overwhelmed by the bizarre urge to buy school supplies. If I knew your real name and address, I would assuredly send you a large bouquet of pens and pencils. I must admit, your rules about no real names or details was daunting at first – I wondered, can a person truly get to know another with so little of their past revealed – but the past doesn’t matter, does it? What only matters is who we truly are. And while our correspondence hasn’t lasted long, a few mere weeks, I feel like you already understand me, my odd humor, my insecurities – and, delightfully, you allow me to rant at you in a way very few people do._

_It might surprise you to know that I have a reputation in my personal and professional life for being somewhat of a … oh, how did my mother put it so eloquently…a major asshole. However, for these few minutes a day, where I get to speak to someone who knows nothing of me or my history, I find that I can be truly myself, in a way that’s forbidden to me in my regular life. For a few minutes a day, you, ShopGirl, have become a beacon of hope and sanity._

_So, thank you. I hope you have a pleasant Tuesday, little ShopGirl._

_P.S. Chewie just dropped what used to be the morning paper into my lap. You wouldn’t happen to know who won last night, would you?_

 

Rey finished the e-mail and laughed, shaking her head. Chewie sounded like quite a character. She’d had a dog briefly growing up, after her Uncle Ben adopted her. Artie was a hilarious old sheepdog, and she’d loved him very much. Hearing about Chewie’s antics made her want to adopt a dog of her own. She checked the time – she still had forty-five minutes before she even had to be in the shower.

Rey cracked her knuckles and began to type while her tea grew cold next to her.

[ **From** : ShopGirl]

[ **To** : NY158]

[ **RE** : Chewbacca]

[ **Time Stamp** : 6:48 AM, Sept. 15, 1998]

_Hello, Friend._

_I do like to begin our letters this way. It makes me feel very grand, and as though I’ve known you forever._

_It makes me a little sad that we could pass each other in the street and not know each other – but it’s also rather exciting, don’t you think? I get a letter from you, and I walk around all day, skipping down the leaf-strewn streets, feeling as though I’ve got the best secret in the world. My very own dear friend, who for all intents and purposes, resides in my computer. Jane Austen couldn’t have written better._

_Chewie sounds like a dear. I’m pleased to hear that he’s signed with the Mets. Perhaps they’ll have more success in the future with him on their side._

_The fall always makes me feel alive again. It is ironic, with the leaves dying, and the trees going to slumber for the season, that I should be so invigorated, but the bracing air in the morning, and the warm, syrupy afternoons are a delight. I know what you mean about school supplies! But no one’s ever phrased it quite that way. Very charming of you, NY158. I would happily accept that bouquet of pencils, and I would give you a very handsomely wrapped calculator in return._

_As for the rest of your statements regarding our penpal status; I feel it, too. I am so proud of you for opening up to me, a virtual (ha!) stranger. I don’t know what your family and friends are on about, NY158. You’ve been nothing but kind and sweet to me, especially when I’ve had a bad day. I don’t believe that you’re a major asshole. Maybe it’s easier for people to think that about you, but you’ve been nothing but wonderful to me._

_You’ll be happy to know that I took your last advice to heart, and I stood up to that person I work with. They honestly had no idea they were bothering me with their comments, and they stopped immediately! I only hyperventilated into a paper bag in the back for ten minutes! So, this stirring success is dedicated to you, my knight in binary armor._

_I hope your Tuesday is resplendent (the word of the day on this little calendar I got last Christmas), and that you have the world’s best Reuben for lunch today._

_P.S. Oh, Chewie. You’ll be happy to know the Yankees won last night. Not the most exciting game, 3-0. Perhaps if you named your dog something other than ‘Chewie,’ he wouldn’t, well, chew all your things? Wasn’t it just last week he got into your slippers?_

Rey reviewed the e-mail before sending it out in the universe, chuckling one last time at the image of his beast of a dog destroying his paper and bringing it to him in victory. It was odd that the movie in her mind featured a faceless man – the dog she could see quite clearly, gangly but massive, shaggy, brown. But all she could see of the master was pin-striped pajamas (not terribly unlike her own) and soft slippers.

NY158 was probably tall, Rey mused as she washed her hair. Probably tall because short people rarely were accused of being major assholes – to their faces. Tall people caught attention more readily, and were often more in the way of others, which could easily earn someone who seemed as kind and funny as NY158 the label of ‘asshole.’ New Yorkers were not well known for their patience, so a hulking man could draw the ire of pedestrians and patrons of narrow shops.

NY158 just couldn’t be an asshole. Rey was resolute in this as she pulled on her outfit; slacks and a nice sweater. Next came her peacoat, which she buttoned quickly, not wanting to take her chances outside. She sipped her tea before making a face. “Horrid,” she muttered, dumping the cold contents down the drain. “Sorry, Armie.”

Rey locked up before walking down the stairs and out onto the street. Her mind drifted back to NY158 (not that it had ever left him). She wondered if he was as dedicated to his work as Armitage, if he took time to listen to opinions that weren’t his own. Rey shook her head and scolded herself. NY158 didn’t exist for her to project her current discontent onto; her dissatisfaction with Armitage was a temporary thing. Her boyfriend of a year was kind, and sweet, and so very smart. His career as a journalist demanded long hours, and he worked so hard. She just wished he was less distracted when he came home.

She couldn’t help but glance at the men in front of her while she walked, considering each and every one of them as a potential NY158 – an absurd pastime, considering the sheer size of the city. She knew precisely three things about him: that he was a he; that he lived in NYC; and, he had a dog named Chewie whom he obviously loved very much.

One man she passed didn’t look cheerful enough for a dog, so she disregarded him immediately; another was a tourist, judging by the way he’d stopped to gawk upwards at a Gothic building front; others she deemed too small, too short, too cheerful.

NYC158 was a bit grumpy, which she appreciated. Grumpy but kind, who always had time to listen to her nervousness about confronting people, her concerns that she wasn’t doing enough for her job; she’d never seen his face, but she knew him. It was impossible to describe, but she knew they understood each other.

And it was with that thought that she reached her destination, The High Ground. Rey unlocked the doors and entered the shop left to her by her great-uncle upon his passing last year.

She was twenty-three, and while some might say that meant she couldn't be a decent business owner, she had watched her uncle run the shop since he adopted her at fourteen, so she had a fairly decent handle on the business. She’d even gone to school to study management (and English Lit, of course). He’d been so proud of her, and Rey was glad he’d been able to see her graduate before succumbing to his disease.

“Let’s have a good Tuesday, Uncle Ben,” she whispered to the framed photograph of them that sat behind the counter. His wrinkled, pleasant face smiled back at her, and she smoothed her hand over the glass before opening the till and running the numbers for the day.

She was so engrossed in her calculations that she missed a tall figure with long, black hair pause outside her shop. He frowned up at the sign, coughed twice, and then continued to walk north.

He was well over six feet tall, and moved down the sidewalk carelessly, not seeming to notice how the crowd had to part to make way for him. His suit was expensive and tailored to fit his imposing figure; he clutched a Starbucks cup in one hand, and his other hand patted his coat pocket, where he’d accidentally left his dog’s leash after their morning walk. He drained the last of his cup and chucked it into a nearby trash can, looking both ways quickly, the movement briefly exposing his large ears, hidden under a curtain of hair, before sprinting across the street to the construction zone. It used to be a block filled with a local grocery store, a florist, a family restaurant, and a shoe repair store, but now it was covered by a continuous stretch of plastic sheeting that workers moved in and out from. Out front, a large sign proclaimed the destiny of this once-charming block.

_Solo Books, Opening Late Fall/Winter 1998._

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you liked it (and if you've seen the movie, please don't spoil what happens, but honestly, everyone should watch it! It's a classic! All Tom Hanks rom-coms are!).
> 
> I hope to have frequent updates and thank you for reading, dears! xx


End file.
